Poems

Man Murdered Magic

Man, murdered magic.
He sharpened his blades and loaded his guns.
He walked upon magic and plunged his dagger in its chest for fun.
Shot it twice because it felt nice.
Dethatched its head and kept it in a box beneath his bed.
He diced its toes off one by one with a smile upon his face.
Poured a cup of its blood just to get a taste.
With what was left he grinded down to an ooze.
Set it on a pile of gun powder and lit the fuse.
He laughed carelessly as it turned to ash.
Then turned to his son with a favor to ask.
If ever magic come back, kill it again with no regret to pack.
He handed his son a string which held its eye.
When the boy took it, man said goodbye to magic with no reason why.